


sorry for party rocking

by horsenames



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, keeping it simple yall, no extra tags to clutter up this easy search
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 06:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16213331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horsenames/pseuds/horsenames
Summary: The Administrator and Pauling chose a beautiful mansion to rent for the ball. 3 stories tall, a pool and beautiful backyard, a fountain to greet them in the front, expensive chandeliers...the height of luxury for these 18 men to destroy. Unfortunately, having fun was off the table. The goal was simply to survive. Even so, one can't help but get swept up in the romance of such an event, especially when new friendships are on the table.





	sorry for party rocking

Once, every 10 years, the mercenaries from RED and BLU would be allowed to mingle. This decennial event was when the brothers at the head of their teams would go to court. The case fell through every decade, yet they continued it as a tradition. The Administrator would take a day off, turning Miss Pauling into a party planner, and by the end of it, the venue would be in pieces.

The event was always twofold - the first day, a ball, with live music, expensive clothing, food and all the alcohol one could want. The next day, the actual court meeting, which only lasted about an hour at most. The mercenaries looked forward to the ball. They couldn’t care less about the court date.

 

“Stop. Fidgeting.” Spy says sharply. Scout groans and stiffens his spine. Spy lets out a sigh mixed with smoke, smoothing out the corners of his teammates suit. He glances to the mirror every now and then to see that Scout has, again, ruffled his own hair. “Why do I even try?” Spy asks himself, smoothing his hair down again.

“Are you done, fancypants? I’m just gonna take this off and streak in the lawn as soon as we get there.”

“Over my cold dead body.” Spy slaps his back. “You’re ready. Don’t screw this up, alright?”

Scout rolls his eyes and trots off, breaking into a sprint as soon as he’s out of grabbing distance. Spy lingers behind as he hears Scout shouting to the others, who reply in equally enthusiastic whoops and hollers. He observes himself in the mirror - he looked sharp as always, of course. He cringes when he hears the characteristic thump of a rocket from Soldier being fired. The best outcome of this ball would be everyone coming home in one piece.

Having fun was off the table. The goal was simply to survive.

 

The Administrator and Pauling chose a beautiful mansion to rent for the ball. 3 stories tall, a pool and beautiful backyard, a fountain to greet them in the front, expensive chandeliers...the height of luxury for these 18 men to destroy. During the drive there, Spy tried to recall everything that happened the past decade - the only notable thing were the changing of Medics on both sides. So, at least that would be one new face - sort of new face. They’d been fighting with their new Medics for the entire decade already.

It doesn’t take long for the rowdier of the bunch to start attacking event staff and each other. The fights get broken up in one way or another, but Spy was no help. He would simply watch with mild interest and drink champagne, hoping quietly to himself that someone on the BLU team thought to poison the drinks. So far, he felt fine, so the odds weren’t in his favor.

Somehow, through the commotion, Spy sees that new face he’s been looking for. A Medic in blue gloves, a white suit with a cross patch on the breast pocket. He cleans up nicely, Spy notes, with his five o’clock shadow properly sculpted and his hair brushed all the way through.

Medic catches Spy staring and immediately looks away, assuming the long gaze is a threat. Spy sets his champagne down on the buffet table, standing straight from the wall and walking directly towards him. The closer he gets, the more allure of this new face consumes him.

“Doctor,” Spy says simply, extending a hand. It’s like the crowd disappears as Medic grabs his hand to shake it.

“Herr Spy, I don’t believe we’ve made proper acquaintance,” he says with a light chuckle, adjusting his glasses on his nose. Spy smiles a bit, feeling his heart beat a bit faster. Something about this man was charming, so much so it was intoxicating him faster than the alcohol. He couldn’t figure much about him from first impressions, which made him all the more curious.

“No, I don’t believe so.” Spy says slowly, his eyes searching every feature of Medic’s face. Medic clears his throat.

“If we’re just going to stand here, let’s get out of the crowd,” he suggests innocently, starting to walk, using their joined hands as a way to pull Spy with him. Spy doesn’t move, however, and pulls Medic back, fully into his chest.

“An easier solution is to stop standing and start dancing,” he says simply, pulling their arms apart and lacing their fingers together. Medic’s cheek flush red as he clears his throat, laughs, and re-positions his feet.

“Yes, I suppose so!” he says, taking a few moments to find Spy’s rhythm and join him. He moves like he has two left feet, but Spy can tell that’s only because he’s unsure of himself.

“Relax,” Spy says sweetly, “I have formal training.”

“That makes one of us!” Medic jokes, actually bringing a chuckle up from Spy’s throat.

 

It doesn’t take long before the dancefloor is a battlefield and the two pacifist parties have to move. Spy leads them out to a balcony for fresh air - the mansion was starting to smell heavily of smoke - and privacy. Spy can’t help but think Medic looks even more stunning in the moonlight. Maybe he drank more than he thought.

“Does that happen every time?” Medic asks, resting his elbows on the balcony railing. Though he’s looking out to the pool and large hedge in the backyard, Spy knows he’s referring to the chaos inside.

“Pretty much,” he replies lamely. He leans back on the rail, the movement making Medic look to him. His gaze lingers a while, too, before he looks back out to the yard. “I have never understood it. Finally, a chance to not kill each other, and that’s all they want to do.”

“The conflict can go to your head,” Medic sighs. “They’ve all forgotten that we have no stakes in this.”

“Seems so.” Spy offers him a cigarette, which he politely declines. They go silent for some time while Medic gathers his thoughts and Spy smokes.

“You’re a very good dancer.” Medic comments through some sudden giggles.

“Was there any doubt? I told you, I’ve had formal training. What espionage agent worth their salt hasn’t been trained in ballroom dance?”

“I learn something new every day.”

“You weren’t that bad, yourself,” Spy says. This draws a little smirk to Medic’s face, his shoulders relaxing.

“Well, thank you. I-I really haven’t danced much, save for flirtatious efforts in my younger days. I can’t even remember the last time I danced with someone, let alone someone as good at dancing as you! Hopefully there will be a chance to do that again before the night ends, I would love to s-”

Spy places a finger against his lips, causing a sudden blush to bloom on Medic’s cheeks.

“RED Medic rambles when he’s nervous, too.” Spy winks.

“I-I’m not nervous,” Medic huffs, though his skin seems to turn red when the taller man winks. “I have no idea what would make you think I’m nervous.”

“The debauchery indoors isn’t going to end any time soon,” Spy states, lifting himself up onto the railing. He kicks his feet off it, sitting on the edge. “Join me outside?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Spy lets himself slide off the edge, recovering well from the two-story drop. He adjusts his tie and looks up, waiting for Medic to jump after him. He does, with a nervous shout upon landing, though he quickly gets his balance back. Spy flicks out his cigarette, then puts his hand out for Medic to take.

“I can still hear the music out here,” Medic says as he grabs his hand. Spy pulls them out to the lawn, the grass slightly wet under their feet, a fountain in the pool spraying them with flecks of shockingly cold water. “Perhaps you can teach me to dance.”

Spy laughs, shaking his head. “You can pay for the lessons by buying me new shoes, you’re going to trample these,” he grabs Medic’s hands again and holds him in to his chest.

“I take offense to that!” Medic gasps playfully, briefly leading in their dance by stepping back and pulling Spy in. He relinquishes control quickly, though, quickly enough for Spy to place a hand on the small of his back.

“We’ll settle it on the battlefield.”

“Is that a threat?” Medic lowers his eyebrows, smiling wider. Spy pretends to think about it as he dances them closer to the pool. He doesn’t get the chance to respond before Medic lets go of his hands and pushes him into the water, leaning down close to it after the splash dissipates.

Spy resurfaces quietly, his balaclava unceremoniously shifted over his eyes. He spits water out of his mouth like a fountain, trying to respond to the question, but he only ends up...laughing. Medic laughs with him, having been holding back giggles for a while now. Spy rests his forearms on the edge of the pool, letting his head fall into them, unable to stop laughing. Medic ends up kneeling, trying to catch his breath.

Spy finally takes a deep breath. “It’s not a threat, it’s a promise,” he says breathily and with a devious smile. Medic matches his expression, leaning in closer to try and intimidate him. Spy grabs the back of his head and pulls him into the pool, and Medic quickly resurfaces with a horrified gasp and yelp.

“ _Schieße_ it’s COLD!!” he shrieks, scrambling out of the water and back up onto the wet grass. Spy laughs again, pulling himself out as well, taking his mask off to wring it out. Medic stands up and looks to him, about to yell something, but he stops short when seeing the Spy’s face. His breath is caught in his throat, so he clears it, smoothing his hair back.

Spy puts the mask back on, shaking his arms off. “A taste of your own medicine, doctor.” he hums.

He isn’t given the chance to respond when they hear one of the Scouts shout something about the two of them ‘being gay in the pool’. This is followed by RED Scout, as he promised Spy, running into the yard and diving into the pool, naked as the tragic day he was born. BLU Scout is quick to follow, but he leaves his shoes and socks on.

Once again, Spy and Medic retreat somewhere safer as the rest of the party starts to spill to the backyard. Knowing they’ll soon have to join in the chaos with their own teams, they join hands as if they’re going to dance again, but stay still.

“A shame we can’t do this more often,” Medic says with a sweet smile. Spy’s shoulders soften as he sighs.

“Battle is like a dance, if you think about it.” he says reassuringly. Medic giggles again.

“Then I look forward to our next dance, Herr Spy!” he exclaims, letting go of his hands to shake excess water off his gloves. Spy smiles and nods, officially smitten.

“I do too.”

**Author's Note:**

> first fic on ao3 thanks to the wizard club discord for helping me write this


End file.
